


Pillowtalk

by cherrylove



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gossip Girl AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 13:42:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9184036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrylove/pseuds/cherrylove
Summary: She’d been lusting after Stiles Stilinski for almost a year and a half now. Somewhere in the last year, she’d gone from thinking of him as the goofy, nuisance that she had to deal with since he was her best friend’s boyfriend to thinking of him as a this sweet, funny, attractive man, who was probably almost as smart as her.  Now, here she was kissing and touching and grinding against him like something straight from her dirtiest dreams.





	

Lydia sat on the velvet couch looking over the room as the serving girls took drinks and food to the customers. She was pleasantly pleased with how busy they were and how well her idea was working out. Her mother, after years of putting up with her acting like a brainless ditz, insisted that she use her brain and do something productive, so Lydia bought the space with the money her mother offered as a starting point and hired the staff. Her mother was pleased, it gave her practical experience for her resume, and it gave her something to do when Allison was preoccupied with Stiles and a place to pick up her arm candy for the week.

She was watching the bartender work from where she sat when she felt the couch dip down slightly and glanced over to find Stiles sitting next to her.

“Quite a place you’ve got here, Martin,” Stiles said, draping his lanky arms across the back of the velvet couch that was the same color as his suit jacket.

“What brings you in Stilinski? I thought you were supposed to be with Allison tonight,” she said, taking a sip from the wine glass in her hand.

“She had to go meet her dad for some business dinner. Since her mom died last year, she’s been taking on more to help her dad,” he explained.

She gave him an incredulous look, “Sometimes, I think you forget she’s my best friend. I remember when her mom died. I was at the funeral right on the other side of her.”

“No, no that’s impossible to forget, Lyds.”

Her eyes met his and she quickly turned to make eye contact with one of the servers. He’d somehow managed to imply more than she was sure he’d meant to in that sentence than she was completely comfortable with. She ordered a Jack and Coke for Stiles and settled into the couch.

“So, is it just a lounge? Cause I think I spotted an espresso machine back there.”

“Bean Sidhe is a coffee shop by day and lounge by night. I thought it’d be a nice way to get my business feet wet before college,” Lydia explained.

“Well, it seems to be doing great…” he trailed off.

They made stilted conversation until his drink arrived and then the music turned up, the lights dimmed, and people began to leave their seats for the small area they’d made a mock dance floor out of. They stayed on the couch for several more drinks, but soon he was getting up from the couch to dance and her eyes were glued to him. It took three songs and one more drink for her to convince herself to join him. They danced close and without inhibition.

Lydia couldn’t be sure who kissed whom first, but once their lips met, she couldn’t pull herself away. They kissed for several minutes on the dance floor and then for moments long on their couch before making their way to her town car. They’d parted only long enough for her to tell the driver to take them back to the Martin penthouse before she was straddling his hips and their kissing was more uninhibited and they were grinding carelessly against each other.

~~~

Lydia knew somewhere in the back of her fuzzy, alcohol laden brain that what they were doing was wrong and unfair to Allison and that Stiles was too drunk to be thinking clearly, but she couldn’t seem to make herself stop kissing him or unbuttoning the crisp, white shirt under his deep red suit jacket.

She’d been lusting after Stiles Stilinski for almost a year and a half now. Somewhere in the last year, she’d gone from thinking of him as the goofy, nuisance that she had to deal with since he was her best friend’s boyfriend to thinking of him as a this sweet, funny, attractive man, who was probably almost as smart as her. Now, here she was kissing and touching and grinding against him like something straight from her dirtiest dreams.

She pushed the white shirt from his shoulders and her finger nimbly started to work on his belt. He unbuttoned her coat with the mandarin collar, pushed it off, and started to unzip the side-zip on her dress. Lydia let the dress drop as she tugged his belt from his belt loops. He walked her through the foyer, through the living room, and towards her bedroom.

She kicked back to open her bedroom door all the way when her lacy, maroon bra dropped to the floor from Stiles’ fingers. He continued to back her into the room and brought them to a stop just a couple steps in. Stiles kissed her hard before placing teasing, nibbling bites along her jaw, down her neck, and across her collarbone before she felt his lips, hot and delicious, around her nipple. She moaned as his teeth plucked it lightly and her hand found the back of his head, pressing him closer.

His lips played with her nipple and pressed kisses across her chest and his fingers tripped down her abdomen to slip beneath her panties to brush lightly against her. She gasped softly and arched her hips towards his hand desperately searching for more from him.

He kissed and nipped his way across her breasts, down the planes of her abdomen, and to nip harder at her hip while his hands worked her lacy panties down her thighs. His lips trailed over her hip and down her thigh and her breathing quickened with anticipation as he kissed closer and closer to her cunt. He nudged her legs slightly further apart and his mouth found her clit easy.

“Oh…fuck,” she murmured.

He sucked gently at her clit and flicked it with his tongue while his hand tweaked her nipple. Her hands tangled in his hair, gripping tightly. He was doing wonderful things between her legs and she wanted more, more, more.

She rolled her hips slightly as he moved his tongue faster against her clit. She let out a gasp and her back arched as the stimulation sent tingles down her limbs. She took her hands from his hair and stepped back from him. Her glazed eyes met his confused eyes and tugged him up from his knees. She unbuttoned and pushed down his pants and boxers all at once.

Lydia took him in her hand and began to stroke him slowly, twisting her wrist slightly. She leaned in and kissed him hard, tasting herself on his lips. He groaned and wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her closer. They backed up towards the bed and she continued to stroke his cock in her hand as they shuffled backwards.

They stopped centimeters from the bed and she dropped to her knees, taking his dick into her mouth while her hand found his balls, massaging them. She caressed the underside of his cock with her tongue and used her other hand to stroke what she couldn’t fit into her mouth comfortably.

“Oh fuck Lyds…” he moaned, hands finding her hair.

She picked up her pace and tightened her grip on his balls slightly as she massaged them. Soon he was thrusting gently into her mouth as she sucked his cock rhythmically. He groaned and squeezed her shoulder, “Come on…if you keep going I’m not gonna last…”

She hummed around his cock and pulled back with a loud ‘pop’ before standing again. Lydia turned Stiles so that the back of his knees lined up with the bed and she gently shoved him backwards before straddling his hips. She dipped down and kissed him hard and long, strands of her hair falling across her face from where they’d fallen out of her coronet braid. She lined her hips up with his and rocked her hips slowly against his, eliciting a string of curses from the whiskey-eyed guy below her.

A smirk spread across her lips and she reached between them to line his cock up with her entrance and lowered herself onto him. Another low groan slipped from his lips and he pulled back slightly and thrust up into her before he was even fully inside her. She let out a breathy, shocked moan and rocked her hips in response. She anchored a hand on his hip and began to rock her hips slowly at first and then a little faster. She found a satisfying pace and her hand drifted down, skirting over her breast, tweaking a nipple, and eventually finding her clit between her velvety folds. She circled it with her fingers as she rocked her hips, causing pleasant warmth to spread from her abdomen to the very tips of her toes.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous…” he muttered.

Their eyes met again, whiskey meeting hazel, lust meeting lust. Stiles lurched up and captured her lips in a rough, hard kiss before flipping them over quickly. She lay there for a brief moment looking up at him and rolled her hips in search of friction. He let out a low growl and one of his hand traced down her body to where they were joined and found her clit. As his thumb swiped over her clit, he thrust into her and she hooked a leg around his thigh out of something like instinct.

Between shared kisses, moans, and returned thrusts, she could feel the toe-curling sensation getting closer to the top.

“Harder,” she urged, writhing wantonly against him.

He responded in kind and she lost herself in the purest of ecstasy at the hands and mercy of Stiles Stilinski. She felt him pick up pace a little more and give sharper, more accented thrusts as she rode out her orgasm around him. He stiffened and groaned as he reached his own release. His hips jerked one, two times before he shifted his weight to one elbow and kissed her softly, still stroking her almost too sensitive clit as she rode out the last waves of her orgasm.

She let out a slow breath and gently nudged his hand away before leaning to kiss him. He pulled out of her carefully and got up to go to her bathroom. He came back with a wet washcloth for her, having already cleaned himself up in the bathroom.

When she was done with it, he tossed it in her laundry basket and climbed back into the bed, pulling the Egyptian cotton, purple sheets up to cover them. Stiles draped an arm over her waist, muttered a sleepy ‘night Lyds,’ tugged her close, and soon was breathing evenly; asleep.

Lydia felt clearer and more sober than she had before she’d begun drinking that day and this clarity was not comforting. It was horrifying. She’d just had the best sex she’d had in long time with Stiles Stilinski and part of her was thrilled. She’d been lusting after him for a long time now, but he was also her best friend’s boyfriend.

Everyone was expecting the brunettes to get married after graduation and expecting her to go off to Yale business school, sleeping her way through all the eligible bachelors. Not only was he not available, but she was beginning to see that whatever she felt for Stiles was definitely more than lust. Maybe even a lot like love.

Lydia Martin was in deep, over her head, may not make her way out shit.


End file.
